


The Wife of the Captain

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Awesome Gwen (Merlin), Confused Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Crack, Dragonlord Merlin (Merlin), F/M, Family Feels, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Marriage, Merlin & Morgana Friendship (Merlin), Merlin is a Little Shit, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Pining Gwaine (Merlin), Pirates, Post-Canon, Protective Arthur, Redeemed Morgana (Merlin), Resurrection, Scars, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23925496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Morgana's been searching for her brother for a long time, and now she's found him, she isn't going to let him slip away.
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Morgana (Merlin)
Comments: 113
Kudos: 138





	1. The Ship

**Author's Note:**

> A new series I'm starting, enjoy!

The sun was scorching, Morgana thought, carefully walking over the sand and towards where the slaves were chained. She wished she’d worn something more practical than the dress and gloves, but then again, looking good was always a benefit in a situation like this. Halting as she finally caught sight of her prize, the woman eyed up the six men that had rags in their mouths, studied their burnt skin and confused expressions.

‘Found em’ up along the continent, milday.’ The man grunted, holding the end of the chains, and Morgana crouched down to stare her half-brother in the eye.

Arthur looked awful, bloody and bruised, probably dehydrated, and utterly lost. Morgana wasn’t surprised, but she did feel a pang of sorrow, reached out to gentle cradle his cheek. He flinched, and she tutted, stood up and straightened her back.

‘How much for the six of them?’ She asked, counting the group of five and then looking back to the man. He was grinning, a gold tooth matching his yellow-stained teeth, gaps that made his smile look more like a sneer. Dirty, uncivilised, and someone she would usually pay no mind to, but this was her brother she had been hunting.

‘That bag of silver on your hip. And the ring.’ His greedy eyes were focused on the ring she was wearing, which she took off and placed into the pouch of silver, throwing it across.

‘Please doin’ business with you, milady.’ He handed across the chain, chuckling to his friends about naïve women and how they shouldn’t be doing negotiations, whilst Morgana hiked her skirts and crouched down opposite her brother.

‘I understand that you are confused, but believe me, I shall explain all once we’re away from these… men.’ She spat the word, then rose back up, turned to her followers. Two men, armed, who didn’t look too pleased by her new purchase.

‘Back to the ship.’ She snapped, marching through the sand, listened to the jerky sounds of the Knights of Camelot attempting to stand and follow in her step.

The port was busy, but most moved out of her way far too quickly, whispers and rumours spreading like wildfire as she made her way along the board and back to her ship, docked at the far end. Her two men shouted for the plank to be lowered, Morgana sparing a glance over her shoulder and seeing Arthur’s terrified gaze.

‘Fear not, ships are a lot safer than you are used to.’ She remarked, guiding them up and onto the deck of her most favourite ship, the men snapping to attention as she made her way to the Captain’s Quarters. Nobody stopped her, even if they thought it odd that she was taking six men alone into a lockable room, they knew better than to question her.

Once she’d dragged them in, she locked the door and looked to the maid that accompanied her on journeys.

‘Alva, fetch some wine and bread for my guests.’ She scurried to the tankard, Morgana gesturing to the chairs.

‘Sit.’ Her brother paused, but did sit down, evidently too confused to argue at the moment.

‘I shall speak, and you shall listen. Once that it done, you may question what I have said.’ Morgana had grown too used to being the most important person in the room, if Arthur’s astounded look was anything to go by.

‘Camelot is gone. You are dead, or you were all dead, and life moved on. It’s been around a thousand years since you walked the earth, Arthur. You aren’t a King, not even a free-man, and at the moment, your existence depends on my generosity, so do refrain from killing me when I unchain you.’ Arthur looked… pale. Pale, considering the sunburn, as did the others. She looked over them, expected the dark glares from Lancelot and Gwaine, the hatred from Elyan. Leon and Percival didn’t look too impressed either.

‘The year is 1735, and this is a ship belonging, ultimately, to King George II.’

‘God save the King.’ Alva muttered, bowing her head before continuing to pour wine. Morgana shot her an amused look, then turned back to the men.

‘I have been alive since the year 1384, and have been tracking down anyone with the power to bring you back. A month ago, I received word that an explorer had found traces of the rumoured Lake of Avalon spring-water, and I followed the trace to you.’ Alva placed down the tray, and Morgana took one of the glasses, moving towards her brother.

‘I’ve had a long time to realise that what happened in Camelot was wrong. That I punished you, hated you, for something that you did not understand. Magic, and all its many benefits. I bear no ill will against you, and will apologise only once for what happened.’ She looked to each of them individually, levelling a sincere smile.

‘I am sorry, from the bottom of my heart, for what I did to you. Now, allow me to help.’ With that, Morgana reached for the rag in Arthur’s mouth, slowly removing it and raising the wine to his lips.

She expected it when he spat it back in her face.

**

They had each been scrubbed clean with salt-water, stripped of the dirty rags that she barely considered clothes. When she moved below deck, a thing basically unheard of for a woman of her status, she was greeted with six half-naked men, tanned with a couple of lash-marks across their backs, but otherwise clean and healthy.

‘Morgana.’ Arthur tersely greeted, earning him a glare from one of the men on the ship.

‘Forgive the man, he is a simpleton and knows not how to address a Lady of status. Do excuse us.’ The sailor looked at her, then bowed his head, climbing back onto the top deck. Arthur was scowling yet again, looked ready to attack, as did the others.

‘Are you hungry? Thirsty?’ She questioned, and they grunted, evidently not too keen on the fact that she was providing for them. Still, she was patient, moved across to Arthur, who tensed as she approached.

‘Easy, I won’t hurt you.’ She remarked, moved a hand to the wound across his chest, let her eyes glow golden as she healed him. He shuddered, eyes shutting, and she took a step back.

‘Do any of you require healing?’ Polite, even if they glared back at her, before Leon hesitantly nodded. She approached, more than aware of Gwaine’s glowing anger, and reached out for the mottled bruising on his shoulder.

‘You said you were brought back. By who?’ Arthur questioned, in the tone of a King, not a man that was currently a slave. Morgana took a step back, ready for the onslaught of questions that would come from this name.

‘Merlin.’

**

‘Merlin’s alive.’ Arthur remarked, while Morgana sat at her table and ate her dinner. Slightly more luxurious than the bread and stew they had been offered.

‘He never died.’ She corrected, watched their eyes grow and their hearts fill, thinking to the friend they lost.

‘And he brought you back.’

‘Because he was lonely, and could not bring you back.’ They had discussed this twice before, but the men still seemed unable to understand the gravity of all that had happened.

‘Albion is Great Britain. With a man called King George.’ Morgana inclined her head, took a bite of her fish and found Gwaine’s gaze on her. The mention of Merlin had a very big effect on him, and she was aware of the reason why.

‘You’re taking us back there, and Merlin doesn’t know we’re back.’ He concluded, Morgana raising a glass and toasting, before swallowing it down. The six of them, still shirtless, blankly stared back.

‘Merlin, is he…’ Gwaine started, and Morgana cut him off.

‘Heartbroken? For the first five hundred years, perhaps. What an… unchivalrous thing you did, Sir Gwaine.’ She was mocking him, she realised, angry at something that she shouldn’t be.

‘What’s she talking about?’ Arthur snapped at his Knight, heads spinning to Gwaine, who became interested in the wooden floor.

‘Gwaine? Did you say something to Merlin?’ So. Lancelot had been aware of the man’s feelings as well. How… cute.

‘The night before the battle, I…’ He trailed off, clearing his throat and looking back up to Morgana, who was enjoying his suffering far too much.

‘He kissed Merlin.’ She finished, listened to Arthur’s choked off confusion. Gwaine just glared at her.

‘Anyway, you can sort that out with him in person, I’m sure. For now, stay out of the way of the sailors, and don’t overstep your boundaries. You’re slaves on this ship, until I register you into our household back at home.’ With that, Morgana offered a gleeful smile and settled back in her chair, knowing that there would be so much more chaos to come.

Good, she did enjoy a little chaos.


	2. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group are confused, Morgana's got a glass of wine, and a hot Pirate enters the scene

‘Are you the monster under my bed?’ Gwaine mocked, hanging off the upper hammock to look at Leon, sprawled out underneath. For his joke, he earned a sharp slap from Arthur, the not-King who was the angriest of them all.

‘Can you ever take anything seriously?’ He hissed, and Gwaine sat up sharply. He usually could ignore the Princess, swallowed down any taunts and would have just calmed himself. But Arthur, attempting to be so high and mighty in this situation, it was driving him insane.

‘We’re on a ship with the Witch-Bitch, nowhere near the Camelot we know, stuck in the middle of the sea in a time we don’t belong. Tell me why a little humour is a bad thing.’ Arthur swung from his hammock, Gwaine doing the same, while Lancelot stepped between them.

‘Enough, both of you. We just have to bide our time, wait till we find Merlin.’ The mention of the sorcerer had Gwaine’s heart clenching. For him, it had been just over two weeks since he’d seen the man, took Merlin’s hands in his and promised he would come back to him. Now, he had every intention of making good on that promise.

‘Did we all know he had Magic?’ Elyan asked, looking around the group. Arthur obviously had found out, Gwaine and Lancelot had known, and Percival and Leon had survived the Battle and gone back to Camelot. When they all nodded, Elyan rolled his eyes.

‘Thanks for filling me in.’ Even Gwaine apologised, they were supposed to be a band of brothers, not bickering and fighting amongst each other like children.

‘So…’ Leon trailed off, and Arthur nodded his head, taking lead naturally.

‘We do as Lancelot suggested. Wait until we find Merlin, at least we know we can trust him, and then we make a better plan.’ Evidently, they all shared a distrust for Morgana. Gwaine especially, remembering her hands cradling his face and…

‘Are you okay?’ Percival was looking to him, and Gwaine had to admit, he had been struggling to look at the Knight since they woke up in the middle of a desert, surrounded by a load of dead men.

‘Fine.’ He answered tersely, whilst the group looked between them.

‘It can’t be easy, with Morgana…’

‘I said I’m fine.’ He snapped, before softening his gaze. Percival seemed to understand, nodded in silent confirmation, before Arthur broke in.

‘Anything we should know?’ Like the Princess would care, Gwaine thought. More concerned about himself, as always, blind to everybody else around him. Merlin, in the shadows for so long, when Gwaine could have given him the world.

‘Nothing.’ Gwaine answered shortly, and the moment was broken by the arrival of a man in uniform. That, at least, they could understand.

‘Welcome to the ship, lads. Name’s Caspian, First Mate, and I’ve gotta’ say, you’ve made quite the entry.’ Gwaine eyed him up, he was unlike the other sailors he had seen, didn’t have the prim and properness that the others maintained. He looked rougher, facial hair and none of the ridiculous hairstyles that the men adopted.

‘That rare?’ Gwaine joked, receiving a grin from the man.

‘Not many gain the attention of her Grace, nor do they stand up to her. It’ll earn you some hell, from the higher ranks.’ Her Grace? The others had noted the term, looked confused.

‘But not from you?’ Elyan asked, and the man chuckled.

‘She may call herself Captain, but she ain’t mine. I follow his Grace, Captain of the Royal Navy, and the man who made me First Mate.’ That was better, someone who they could maybe get to tell them more of Morgana. Instantly, the group were all smiles and charms, deciding this man was clearly their best bet.

‘How come she’s calling the shots?’ Gwaine asked, and Caspian rolled his eyes.

‘Thinks that she can, cause her husband’s a big-shot. He, I respect. Her, not so much.’ Husband?

‘Morgana’s married?’ Arthur asked, not used to the fact he needed a title for her.

‘That’s her Grace, Duchess Le Fay to you.’ He teased, before punching Arthur in the shoulder in a joking way,

‘Yeah, to the Captain of the ship. Good guy, and no doubt the man you’ll be meeting, considering she stole his ship to find you.’ It took Gwaine a long moment to make the connection, and when he did, his heart did something ugly.

‘Don’t suppose his name’s Merlin, by any chance?’ Gwaine prayed, but he was just about out of luck.

‘That’s his nickname, officially Emrys. Don’t spread this, but he isn’t exactly… fond of his wife. More of a friendship, than romantic. Keep that between us, though. Emrys needs an heir, and it wouldn’t do to spread rumours about the guy.’ So many things he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, so Gwaine slumped down and tried not to think too hard.

‘So this is Merlin’s… Emrys’ ship?’ Arthur asked, the group looking to their new friend. Caspian chuckled, gestured to the underbelly of the ugly thing.

‘Welcome to the Excalibur.’

**

Morgana sat on deck, sipping at her wine as she watched the men run around on deck. They thought it bad luck, for a woman to be onboard, let alone to be the Captain of the ship. Her attention drifted across the men, unfortunately all fully-clothes, as the uniform dictated. She’d been on many a ship, and she would always prefer a ship of Pirates, over these idiots that pretended they fought for their King and Country.

The freedom that came with piracy was incredible, a code of conduct that she could actually respect. And, as much as Merlin pretended he did not like them, she knew that he was just as fond of the taste of freedom.

‘Captain, we’re making port to stock up on resources. Should dock early tomorrow.’ The First Mate, Caspian, one of Merlin’s closest advisors. Also, only interested in men. She’d seen the way his eyes drifted over her husband, and she absolutely despised him. If Merlin would not even see her in such a way, then he would not find some ex-Pirate attractive.

Not that she was jealous. She had long since gotten used to the fact she needed to be married, in order to live in this man’s world. And Merlin was the perfect husband, didn’t restrain her like any other would. Plus, when the loneliness came creeping back, as it always did, it was nice to have a familiar face.

‘Very well. What of the new crew?’ As she spoke, the First Mate moved aside to reveal the six of them, dressed in haggard clothes and looking very unsure of their position on the ship. She would have laughed, had she not seen the way that they looked up at her, angry, full of loathing.

‘Dressed and ready.’ Her gaze met Arthur’s, and she longed to speak to him. To explain everything, to try and make him understand. Then again, she’d had a long time to grow over her hatred. He had only been alive for a couple of weeks, if the dead men at the site where they were resurrected was anything to go by.

‘Put them to work.’ Morgana remarked, before turning back to the ocean.

**

‘They said you’re married to him.’ She regarded her brother calmly, even as men approached with hands reaching for their pistols, in case the slave was going to attempt to harm her.

‘Leave us.’ They scampered, terrified of her tempers, and she gestured for her brother to sit. He did so, on the edge of the boat, and looked at her. The other Knights were being trained, showed how to pull the ropes and keep the sails taut.

‘I had no choice. This is a man’s world, brother dear. And Merlin seemed the logical option.’ She saw the flash of protectiveness, wondered if Arthur had thought about all the times that Merlin had saved his life. Did he feel the need to protect him from her?

‘I don’t believe you’ve changed.’ He was so wary, so unused to being in a position that did not command respect. It was funny, to see him humbled.

‘Back to work, Arthur. I wouldn’t want to have to throw you overboard.’ She teased him, and watched as he walked back down to the deck. Beside her, Caspian appeared, offering out another glass of wine.

‘You called him brother.’ She frowned up at him, before looking back to the six of them. Hopefully, Merlin would see this as an offering of peace, as proof that she was indeed loyal to him. Plus, after the last time they had spoken, she needed to apologise.

Showing him up in front of the King had been a bad idea, even Morgana could admit that. A man should be able to control his wife, and it was important that Merlin maintained his position as the second-most important man in the country. He had raised the children of the current King, had Princess Louisa as the youngest child being taught under his guardianship.

‘He is close, to Emrys. He’ll be pleased to see them, once he’s got over the shock.’

‘Will he be pleased you stole his favourite ship?’ She could hear the judgement, the warning in tone.

‘Watch you tongue with me, or I’ll have it cut.’ It was a lie, Merlin would never let her, but it was enough to send Caspian back towards the Knights.

A friendship was blooming, and she suspected mutiny was close.


	3. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group are adjusting, and Morgana does some thinking

Arthur grimaced, tightened the rope as the ship crashed into the wave, salty water skidding across deck. To his side, Leon was doing his best to not drop overboard, but they’d lost sight of the others. It was awful, the dark sky and the rolling clouds, the crashing of the waves.

‘TIGHTEN THE ROPES!’ Someone screamed, and his knuckles ached as he pulled yet again, felt the rope burn into his skin. Caspian appeared, his grey eyes wide and his uniform soaked, shouting orders to each man that he passed. When he reached the two of them, he grabbed the rope and helped them pull yet again.

‘She’s insane!’ Someone shouted, and Arthur presumed they were talking about the storm, until he caught sight of his sister.

She stood behind the wheel of the ship, a manic smile and gleaming eyes, cackling as the ship was yet again thrashed by the elements.

When she met his gaze, he realised immediately that she was enjoying this. That it was a taste of freedom, and he was beginning to understand why. As a Knight, he’d chase the adrenaline that came from a Hunt. Like this, it coursed through his veins, and he went back to making sure they didn’t all drown.

**

Morgana kicked off her boots, then the layers of dress that were far too soaked to even consider wearing at the moment. Alva scurried behind her, offering out trousers and a tunic, and she pulled them on, tying her hair back. The storm had passed, and they were anchored just off one of the mid-way islands, to restock on some items.

She walked back onto the deck, Caspian the first man she spotted. He was still soaked, hair slicked back, rather good-looking, for a pirate.

‘The men?’

‘All accounted for, Captain.’ He stood proud, and Morgana gave him a quick nod, before brushing past to see the rowing-boat being lowered to go into the port.

‘Who’s going to land?’

‘I will, along with a couple of the crew. Was wonderin’ if I could take one of the rookies.’ There it was, the slight accent that made itself known when he spoke, kept him from being a perfect Georgian-aristocrat. No wonder he’d managed to attract the eye of the ladies at court, he was so different from what they were usually offered.

‘Take Percival and Elyan.’ He didn’t ask how she knew their names, just went to do as she bid. Morgana watched them appear on deck, their eyes trailing to her, and she wondered if they’d argue.

No, not yet. They were waiting for Merlin.

**

‘Look at this place.’ Elyan muttered as they walked through the port. He had been glad to be on dry land, especially since the storm, but this was quite the opposite of what he was used to. The stench of sweat and alcohol, the women dressed provocatively and lining the way, offering out services he didn’t want to think about. Then there were the men, all manner of size and shape, of colour as well.

‘D’you think this is what England is like?’ Percival asked him, the two trailing after Caspian. Elyan hoped it wasn’t, he figured this was a less advanced civilisation, but he could be wrong.

‘Feel free to grab a drink, men. Relax a little, her ladyship can wait.’ Caspian clapped them on the back, and the two Knights looked to each other, then the bar.

Yes, they could stop for a drink or two.

**

‘Are you drunk?’ Gwaine asked with amusement, assisting Elyan onto his bunk underneath Arthur, helping him unlace one of his boots.

‘Nah, j’slightly tipsy.’ He slurred, whilst Percival was attaching himself to Leon’s side, talking about how he wanted a hug. Lancelot had gone to assist him, whilst Arthur, the high-and-might King, just watched them all.

‘What was it like?’ He was curious, hoped that he would get to go eventually. To see what the world had become, since his death.

‘Smelly. Drink n’ lots of ladies.’ Sounded like paradise, Gwaine thought, pushed Elyan back into the Hammock and listened to him start snoring immediately. Percival was in his own hammock, finally having released Leon, and he too fell asleep quickly.

‘Her Grace, Captain Morgana requests your presence in her quarters.’ Gwaine jumped at the sneaky voice, turned to see Alva, the maid, staring at them.

Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good news.

**

Morgana watched them enter, all bar the two that were passed out. They’d done well, proving themselves loyal, that they wouldn’t run at the first chance.

‘Good evening, gentlemen. Do take a seat.’ Leon did, followed by Lancelot. Gwaine was still glaring at her, and Arthur looked untrusting. Morgana just ignored them, poured some of the wine and offered out a glass to each of them. Lancelot was the only one who accepted, but even that seemed forced.

‘We should dock within a week, and from there, head to Hampton Court Palace, where Merlin is currently residing.’ She watched their hopeful glances at the mention of the Warlock, wondered if they’d ever come to trust her in such a manner.

‘How are you enjoying your time upon the Excalibur?’ For a moment, nobody answered. Then, Leon carefully spoke,

‘It’s a different experience. And a little confusing, if I’m honest. Plus there’s the fact that we don’t trust you.’ From Leon, the honesty was refreshing. She chuckled, tipped her head in acknowledgment.

‘Your honesty is appreciated. But hopefully Merlin will explain everything to you.’

‘Why did you marry him?’ Lancelot butted in, protective over the Warlock.

‘To better my position in society. And, if I’m honest, he is rather attractive. He’s changed since Camelot.’ She wasn’t lying. Merlin had turned into a man that she could respect, slightly wary of trust, but she had his ear on matters that were important.

Her response earned her annoyance from Gwaine, almost palpable in the air, and Morgana decided it was best not to talk of how she was attracted to the Warlock.

‘Rest, in the morning I’ll have Caspian show you how to wield a sword. There not quite the ones from Camelot.’ Arthur, who hadn't spoken at all, walked out without another word. Lancelot rose, placed back the glass of wine and followed him. Leon was next, until it was just her and Gwaine in the room.

‘He still loves you.’ She admitted to his stony expression, and saw the slightest flicker of hope. It was gone in an instant, the Knight stalking from the room and leaving her with five glasses of wine to drink.

A hardship that she could deal with.

**

Caspian disarmed Leon, swung the sword in the direction of Arthur, who parried the blow and feinted left on the second swing. Gwaine was creeping forwards, careful to avoid Leon’s sword and the two hungover members of their group. Lancelot was on the other side, and they exchanged a glance as they approached the target.

Arthur’s sword embedded into the mast, and he glared at it as he held his hands in surrender. Caspian turned his attention to Lancelot, and the King accepted his defeat, stepping away from the fighting.

He noted how most of the men seemed disapproving, stood in their uniforms and frowned down at them. He was beginning to suspect that Caspian was not naturally one of them, that he came from a place where the laws of the sea were different.

Lancelot was disarmed, shoved into Leon, who straightened him up.

Morgana was out on deck, seemingly soaking in the sun, not altogether bothered by the clashing swords. Arthur was still unsure on how he felt about his sister no longer trying to kill him, it was a weird change, and he wasn’t sure if he could trust her. Sometimes, she looked like the Morgana that had been raised by his side. But, at other times, she looked like the one that had reigned down chaos, had stolen his crown.

Gwaine’s sword pressed nicely into Caspian’s throat, the First Mate looking impressed as he dropped his own blade.

‘Nicely done, Gwaine. Not many can best me.’ A clap on the shoulder was exchanged, before Morgana looked down to them.

‘Gift him as appropriate, Caspian.’ She remarked lazily, then went back to the sun.

‘Yes Captain.’ Arthur didn’t miss the slight lilt on the title, like he thought it undeserved. Arthur’s attention turned to what they called a pistol, offered out to Gwaine.

‘Your first pistol. Learn to strip her down and clean her, and we’ll practice firing tomorrow.’ Gwaine held the thing in his hands with slight hesitancy, Arthur had to admit, he was just as confused by it. Apparently, they shot out pieces of metal that were dangerous.

He wanted to see one in action.

He regretted the thought a moment later when a cry came from the top of the mast.

‘PIRATES!’


	4. My dearest Husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's coming next Chapter, my lovelies

Arthur grimaced as the ships grew closer, the sounds of canons (those he figured were big pistols) ringing in his ears. Morgana had swung the ship around, something about being able to have the canons facing the ship as it tried to get closer, and Caspian looked rather at home during all this rushing around.

But then the other ship was turning, and then everything really did go to hell. He was being dragged back, a hand in his shirt, Caspian sitting him on the step with a sword and telling him to stay put. Gwaine, who was now holding a pistol that he had no idea how to use, was put in front of him.

‘Anyone tries to climb aboard, shoot.’ That was the only advice they were given, and so the group sat back to watch the chaos.

**

Morgana loved pirates. When she’d served as one, under a Captain that had taken both her and Merlin under his wing, the thrill of boarding a ship was one that she couldn’t replicate. So, naturally, she was slightly sad about having to kill them. Normally, if there hadn't been precious cargo on board, she’d have let them get a little closer. Had some board the ship, to start a fight that would have her blood pumping.

If she did that, however, Arthur might mention it to Merlin. And this was Merlin’s favourite ship, so getting it blown to pieces by Pirates that were straying far too closely to the English waters would really annoy him. Letting her eyes glow golden, she made sure their canons wouldn’t be able to hit her ship, moved down to the deck and ordered the men into formal lines, pistols forgotten, muskets at the ready.

On the opposite ship, she could see the terror beginning to spread. They thought they had an advantage, their ship was quicker, lighter, far more likely to be able to reach the Excalibur. Yet they didn’t know she had Magic, nor that she had been sailing for over two-hundred years, and had only lost a ship twice in all of that time.

Her eyes flicked to the group of Knights, to where Gwaine was staring at his pistol in confusion, and the others were gripping swords as though it might protect them. A quick spell of protection, which Gwaine caught if his widening eyes were anything to go by, before her attention turned to the ropes that were flying onto her ship.

It was time to kill some pirates.

**

Arthur had never seen a battle over so quickly. Their canons did not fire, and he suspected sorcery, and the ropes landed right next to bunches of armed men. The moment they tried to cross, the sky filled with sound and bright bangs, smoke that quickly clouded his view and the screams of people being slaughtered.

He did not miss the sight of Morgana, sword in hand, deftly taking down the men that dared to step foot on her ship. The trousers now made sense, she could move quickly with a sword in hand, while the men were attempting to retreat back to their own ship.

The ropes were severed, and the canons fired once more, splintering the ship opposite. Arthur was not a sailor, he had very little experience of ships, but even he could tell that the massive hole in the side was going to be an issue for them.

There was no cheer of victory from the men on deck, they just stood and dusted off their uniform, began to put away the muskets and return the canons to their positions. Morgana, however, looked pleased. She stood on the railing, one hand holding onto the rope, the other on a sword that dripped blood. A couple of the bodies had fallen on the ship, men lifting them over into the dark seas below.

Caspian looked the same, Arthur realised. Pleased, a slightly feral grin that he made a note to ask about later.

**

‘It was a quick fight.’ Caspian agreed, when they were all in their hammocks later. Gwaine liked the man, had a feeling that they would have gotten along well, had he not been serving under Morgana’s command. That alone put him at odds, keeping the man at arm’s length.

‘You should be onboard when Emrys is on deck, there’s nothing like it.’ Caspian’s eyes filled with something that bordered on adoration, a stab of jealousy filling Gwaine’s gut. He had no right to be so judgemental, Gwaine knew that, but it didn’t stop the bile in his stomach.

‘Have you served under him long?’ Served under, Gwaine could have snorted at Leon’s phrasing. From the look Arthur was giving him, he was close to being hit, or shoved out of his hammock again.

‘He picked me up off a pirate ship in the north of the Caribbean, showed me the ropes and helped me rise to First Mate. Excalibur’s his most prided ship, it’s an honour to sail on her.’ It was still slightly weird to be on a ship that had the name of Arthur’s sword, but Gwaine figured there were weirder things at play.

Like resurrecting a millennium after your death, to find the person that killed you controlling your life.

**

Morgana studied the falcon, stroking the dark feathers as she read over the note yet again. The bird had found them by Magic, there was no questioning, she had seen her husband’s collection of impressive falcons.

He evidently was not very impressed with her stealing his favourite ship, and his best men, to travel away without a single word of warning. Apparently, it was all the gossip at Court, the King himself aware of her runaway.

Still, she could tell by the way he signed the letter that he was not truly mad, indeed amused, by her daring escape from the treachery at the King’s side. They both hated politics, it reminded them too much of Camelot, and he’d never denied her the freedom she wanted.

Would it be different, now that the others were back? Would she be palmed off, to the side, abandoned? Worse, would he dismiss her as his wife?

She drained the last of the wine, deciding to write back while she was slightly intoxicated, hoping to gain back his favour before they reached shore.

_My dearest husband,_

**

Arthur had never missed Merlin’s baths so much. The water was freezing, dumped over them on deck, very little time to scrub away the dirt and grime. The others looked just as annoyed, standing in nothing but undergarments as they shivered. The moment the second bucket of water was over them, they moved to the side and used scraps of cloth to dry, before being handed new garments.

‘We’re getting closer, you’ve done well. This journey wasn’t easy, you’ll be glad to see shore.’ Arthur couldn’t reply to Caspian, his teeth too busy chattering to reply, as he attempted to stumble into clothing. He didn’t want to look a fool, but he’d been dressed for most of his life, rarely had to do it himself.

As it was, Lancelot reached across sneakily to correct the buttons he’d got wrong. Arthur had never been more embarrassed, but the Knight said nothing.

‘Where are we, exactly?’ Gwaine inquired, looking over the seas and in, hopefully, the direction of land.

‘The channel, coming around to the harbour. You’ll travel by horse up the side of the Thames, before finishing your journey by barge. I’m unsure if the Duchess will let me accompany you.’ None of that made sense to Arthur, but Gwaine seemed more knowledgeable, probably because he’d been spending time with one of the sailors that had a map.

‘The Thames is the river than the capital is on, right? London?’ Caspian confirmed his words, and Gwaine looked pleased with himself.

Once they were back below deck, Gwaine explained everything he knew. That London was where the King lived, in a Palace, and they were going to travel to one of his homes (the man had more than one?) to see Merlin, who was in charge of raising the royal children. It seemed that he hadn't travelled far from the throne, Arthur thought, feeling an odd jealousy at the fact that his manservant was now under a different King’s authority.

He missed his Crown. It sounded stupid, but he did. If his Knights hadn't been here, he’d have been lost.

But, most of all, he missed Merlin. He had so much he needed to say, apologies to make, a friendship to repair.


	5. Unhappy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is, well, confused.

Gwaine had never seen such finery, the buildings taller than he had ever seen. They had left the ship, finally had been placed on horseback, something he could remember and was familiar to him. Morgana had not spoken to them, back in a dress and with people flanking both sides, guarding her. Caspian didn’t look impressed, nor did he gain any favourable looks.

Then they were back on water, a barge, and they’d lost all the guards that flanked them. The Palace, because honestly Gwaine was beginning to understand why it was called such a thing, came into view. Arthur was beside him, looking terrified, and Gwaine was getting the feeling in his gut that told him it was either going to go very well, or incredibly badly.

‘Worried?’ Caspian came across, somehow looking more like a pirate than a member of the King’s navy.

‘We haven’t seen Merlin, I mean Emrys, in a while.’ Arthur stated, and Caspian chuckled.

‘You don’t need to explain, I’ve seen the golden eyes, I know there are things that can’t be explained.’

**

Morgana led the rabble, walking into the Palace and being surprised when she was greeted not by her husband, but a member of the Guard that informed him that the Duke was out riding with the youngest Prince. That annoyed her, but she hid it well, leading the group into one of the reclining rooms.

Arthur looked lost, amongst the finery, and she gestured to chairs that were worthy more than she’d paid for the Knights. Caspian didn’t take a seat, stood in front of her and glared. On land, they didn’t get along very well, not with the discrepancies between them.

‘You could go back to the Port.’ She suggested, narrowing her eyes at the Pirate.

‘And miss a chance to talk to his Grace? I think not.’ He didn’t believe she should have a title, that was clear, and he was jealous of how close she was to Merlin. They remained in the intense stare, even as the servants moved into the room and offered them refreshments.

‘Just because you think my husband might stoop to bed you, Caspian, does not mean that you have a right to be here.’ Her lip curled, and Caspian’s eyes widened in shock. She’d never stated it aloud, even if she believed it, and it was clear that he hadn't appreciated the words.

‘His Highness, Prince William, and the Duke of Cumberland.’ Morgana stepped away from Caspian, watched the doors open and spotted Merlin. The Prince was by his side, fourteen years of age, and Morgana dropped into a curtsey.

Caspian bowed low, but the Prince did not care for either of them that much, moved to the stairs and did not enter the reclining room.

Merlin, however, grinned upon spotting her.

‘Lady Morgana.’ She rose, watched as he came walking towards her with a bright smile, that fell as soon as he caught sight of the six men in the room.

His eyes widened, mouth parted, unmoving.

‘My lord husband, I bring you the findings of our travel.’ Merlin didn’t respond, eyes solely focused on the group, and he looked ready to faint.

Caspian took a step closer when Merlin wobbled, and Morgana did the same.

‘Impossible.’ He whispered, and Morgana’s heart cracked, could hear the pain in his voice.

‘Merlin.’ Arthur was rising to his feet, but the Warlock winced, recoiled away like he’d been slapped. And with that, the moment was broken, Merlin turning and fleeing from the room as quickly as he could. The doors slammed, thunder rumbling outside as clouds formed, and Morgana sighed.

‘His Grace is unwell, tell the staff to give him a wide berth.’ The maid bobbed a curtsey, scurried away and left Morgana to stare at the closed doors.

‘That went well.’ Caspian remarked, and Morgana snorted.

‘About as well as I thought it would go.’

**

Merlin couldn’t breathe. His chest was tighter than the stupid jacket, Magic digging into his skin until he gagged, dropped to his knees in the gardens and let the rain cool his skin.

It couldn’t be Arthur. Because if it was, that meant it was possible for him to come back. That meant Merlin had failed, that he had let them die and didn’t even have the strength to bring them back. A sob tore from his throat, hands clutching around his neck and trying to stop anymore sounds from breaking free.

The clouds rumbled, light flashing between them, and the sound hid the second cry.

This was on him, he’d failed to bring back Arthur, and the King had to be so mad at him. Angry, for the fact he couldn’t bring him back, for not searching for the answer for long enough. He let the tears trail down his face, stared up to the stormy sky and tried not to drown the entirety of London.

He should not be doing this, not with the King’s children in the Palace, able to watch from the windows as he lost control of his gift. Not with Morgana watching, and probably the men he had failed, and his First Mate.

‘Merlin.’ He breathed out, looked back to Morgana, who stood on the path with a sympathetic smile on her face. She’d believed, never given up hope of getting her brother back, and she’d been right. Had hunted them down, when Merlin had shouted and screamed and told her it wasn’t possible.

He rose, walked across to her and stared down into the bright green.

‘You… I… Morgana. Forgive me.’ He should not be crying, yet the tears would not stop, as he took her hands and dropped back to his knees.

‘I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have lost hope, I…’ And the sobs broke his words once more, Morgana pulling him so his head rested to her stomach, carded her fingers through his hair.

‘You’re alright, my love. Perfectly fine, and when you’re ready, we’ll do this.’ She crouched down, until she was level with him, always there when he needed her. Never giving up faith, the softness that she only showed when they were alone shining through.

‘Together.’ He mumbled, watched as she cupped his cheeks.

‘Together.’ She promised, before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

**

When she returned to the room, sopping wet, it was to the disbelief of the six men that had been watching. Her maid rushed to undress her from her cloak, stoked the fire to try and warm her, but she didn’t really need it.

‘He’ll speak to you by the end of the day, without a doubt. For now, Maia, see to it that each of these men has a room assigned to them.’

‘Yes, your Grace.’


	6. Sharing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin greets the group

Merlin opened the door after knocking, forced himself to take a step in. Gwaine’s eyes were the first he met, but that was far too painful, so he looked to Arthur. That wasn’t much better, and the Warlock felt awkward in a way he hadn't for hundreds of years, exposed. Morgana had assured him that they weren’t angry, and he did trust her, but he also knew that he’d let them die. He’d be mad at himself, hell, he was angry at himself.

‘Merlin.’ Lancelot rushed across, and that was slightly less painful. He pulled him in for a hug, gripped him tightly and remembered their last moments together. Friends, always, that was an assurance.

‘I…’

‘If you apologise, I’m going to hit you.’ Lancelot warned, still hugging him, and Merlin weakly chuckled. When the Knight pulled back, he was studying him curiously, eyeing up his outfit.

‘You’ve not changed that much.’ Merlin teased, even if it stabbed him in the heart.

‘You’ve changed. This,’ He gestured to the outfit, ‘Is new. Suits you.’ Merlin figured he might be joking, the Georgian era was one of the worst for fashion, in his opinion. At least he hadn't gone for the headpieces.

‘You’re all okay? Any of you hurt?’ He finally looked back to the others, to where Arthur was, and the King moved towards him.

The hug was appreciated, a lot different from the last moment that he held him. This time he had a strong heartbeat, one he sought out just to keep him calm, eyes not filled with pain. A healthy flush to his skin, bronzed skin and a smile.

‘Merlin, Gods.’ Evidently, he was not the only one that had needed this hug. He stepped back, Arthur’s eyes shining, and Merlin couldn’t hide his smile.

‘Nice to see you back, Sire.’ That came on instinct, the word long-since embedded into his friendship with Arthur. The King snorted, clipped his ear, then the smiling continued. It was nice, Merlin thought, turning to the next Knight.

Elyan hugged him tightly, clapped him on the back in a very manly gesture. Percival almost squished him, which Merlin was more than fine with, and Leon ruffled his hair like he had done when Merlin came back with the news that Arthur was dead.

Gwaine was the last one, standing to the side, looking unsure.

Merlin initiated the hug, felt strong hands wrap around and hold him tightly, as if they feared he’d slip away. Ironic, because it was Gwaine that had slipped away from him. He’d found the Knight, Percival sitting by his dead body, and together they’d burnt him. Percival hadn't said anything about how Merlin had sobbed, screamed to the sky and summoned the lightning that responded easily to his tempers.

Soulful brown eyes, filled with uncertainty and tears, and Merlin didn’t need to think. It was instinct, even after a thousand years, to lean in to press his lips to Gwaine’s. The Knight kissed him back, gentle and worried, and the last piece of Merlin’s heart clicked back into place.

‘I can share.’ He should have known Morgana would come, standing in the doorway with a smug smile, and he stepped back from Gwaine.

‘I guess you have questions.’ Merlin began, and wasn’t expecting the absolute rush of words that followed.

**

With the fact that Gwen ruled well, did amazingly as Queen and finished uniting the lands of Albion, cleared up, Arthur looked happier. Percival and Leon told the story of how Merlin had helped her be a great Queen, how they had ruled side by side. Merlin listened awkwardly, rubbed the back of his neck while Morgana listened to the stories as well.

She had heard it from his perspective, but he was a lot more humble, saw it all as Gwen’s fortune, rather than his own.

‘Then I was on my own for a bit. Travelled Albion, hoped that you’d come back, but you didn’t. I couldn’t find a spell strong enough, none of the six of you would come back.’ Merlin admitted, thinking back to his early years.

‘Eventually I decided that if I couldn’t bring you back, I’d try and get someone that would understand my plight for Magic.’ He looked across to Morgana, who took his hand in comfort.

‘When I woke, I was angry. Still remembered my last moments, so fled from Merlin’s company and spent around twenty-years by myself. It took me a while to realise why Merlin had brought me back, that he was lonely, and we joined forces.’ It had been weird, riding back to his home to find Morgana sitting on the steps to his house, looking up at him with a look that reminded him of Camelot. Her hair loose around her shoulders, a gown of emerald green, and a sad smile on her face.

‘We’ve guided the Kings and Queens of England ever since.’ Morgana finished, while Merlin rolled his eyes.

‘By guided, Morgana means she slept with half of them.’ It had always amused him, especially when she had to flee the Court of Mary I because the woman had known that she’d slept with her father.

‘So, the two of you have been together for how long?’ Morgana looked across to Merlin, who gestured for her to take the question.

‘350 years, approximately.’ And strangely, they hadn't grown bored of each other’s presence.

‘Together, together?’ Arthur asked, still glaring at his sister.

‘Sadly, no, Merlin insists on being a prude.’ Morgana pouted in his direction, teasing him, and the Warlock rolled his eyes.

‘Just because I don’t want to sleep with half of England.’ He shot back, and the Witch cackled, eyes flashing golden. The group looked around, expecting something to happen, but Merlin knew that when she got in this mood, her eyes flicked colours quite easily.

‘I’m presuming you’re hungry, I’ll inform the cook that there will be six more for dinner.’ Morgana rose, leant down to kiss his cheek, lingering just to try and make a point.

‘Just don’t flirt with the Princesses, and you’ll be fine.’ Merlin suggested, much to the confusion of the other six men.

**

Gwaine eyed her up, and Morgana did the same. Two people, both evidently caring for Merlin, about to walk into the dinner Hall. Gwaine didn’t like the clothing, it was uncomfortable and the servant that had tried to dress him had been all hands, but Morgana seemed fine with the styles. A dress of blue, with a dipping neckline that he had to admit, his eyes did follow, before snatching back up to the Witch.

‘You care for Merlin.’ She began, and Gwaine glared.

‘As do you, apparently.’ She’d killed him, but this wasn’t the same Morgana. He had never met the nice one, the one before her insanity, but he knew that Leon, Lancelot and Arthur had been talking. Had said that she seemed like the Morgana that Arthur had grown up with, and she evidently did care for Merlin. It was clear in the way she watched him, in the way she’d walked out into the rain to comfort him.

‘We’ve reached an impasse, then, my Lady.’ He sneered the title, although he wasn’t sure why. She’d brought him back to Merlin, after all. Morgana cocked her head, regarded him, and then shrugged.

‘I told you, I can share. You’re not bad on the eye, Gwaine.’ Her eyes trailed over his form, flirtatious in a way he hadn't expected, and he shifted between his feet.

‘You don’t forbid me pursuing Merlin?’ If she had, then he would have had reason to hate her. As it was, she shook her head.

‘Go ahead, as long as I get to watch.’ And, with a lewd grin that rivalled his own, she gestured for the doors to open. They did, and Morgana offered him her arm.

‘To a shared interest in a certain Warlock.’ Gwaine paused, before hesitantly taking her arm in his, looking out to the longest table he’d ever seen.

‘For now, I’ll agree to that.’


	7. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine and the group are just... lost

Gwaine had never been more confused in his life. His Merlin, the one from Camelot, did not have children that looked up to him like he was their Father, took his word to be the law and smiled up at him while wanting his praise. He knew he was not the only one confused, this was a big change from Camelot, despite the fact that they were still amongst royalty.

Merlin sat at the head of the table, with Morgana by his side, and Gwaine could respect the fact that she seemed to think in the interests of both of them. When wine was poured, she made sure the servant topped up Merlin’s glass. When food was brought, if Merlin was engaged in a conversation with one of the children, Morgana would make sure he got the dishes he preferred.

Gwaine and the other five were paying attention to the children of the King, realised quite quickly that, despite having a father and a Mother, they did not see them that often. That, with Merlin, they could act as children should. The eldest was twenty-four, or at least, the eldest that was residing under Merlin’s care. Her name was Amelia, Princess Amelia, and Gwaine had to bite back everything telling him to flirt with her. It was natural, but he was no longer a man at the King’s side, could not get away with such a thing.

Amelia seemed enamoured with Arthur, taken by the blond-hair blue eyes cliché, and Morgana picked up on it as well. She tried to change conversation, to give the girl limited time to interact with Arthur, who looked thoroughly confused. The next child was called Caroline, and she seemed more interested with her plate than any of the visitors at the table. Then there was the Prince from earlier, who deemed the men at the table an inconvenience, ignored them entirely.

He didn’t seem fond of Morgana, either. Apparently, being a male heir made him more important than any women in the household, and he held that over everybody but Merlin. Like a father would be to his child, Merlin seemed blind to the boy’s arrogance, and Gwaine quickly realised that the Warlock had taken these children under his wing, treated them with his best affections.

Had he always been this close to the throne? Did it come naturally, due to his love of Arthur and Camelot? He wanted to ask so many questions, but refrained from doing so whilst in the presence of the royal heirs to Albion. England.

‘So this is your brother, Lady Governess?’ Louisa, the youngest at the table at only eleven years of age, staring across to Arthur curiously. Morgana cleared her throat, lowered the napkin and smiled dotingly at the girl. Evidently, she was the favourite to the Witch.

‘Indeed, your Grace. He was on an important mission, down in the unexplored territories, ever since I was a girl.’ A lie, a well-placed one, because they had been slaves when they first boarded the Excalibur.

‘And you look for a position at my Father’s Court?’ William asked, sneering almost, and Gwaine bit his tongue to stop a harsh remark. Usually, he’d find it amusing when someone challenged the Princess, but in this unknown time with very little assistance, they had to band together. Shockingly, it was Merlin that stood up for Arthur.

‘Watch your tone, William. Arthur is a friend of my own, not just my wife’s.’ The Prince bowed his head, looked ashamed at his tone.

‘Sorry, my Lord.’ Merlin’s look of anger vanished, softened to a look that Arthur used to use for his young Knights.

‘You’re forgiven. But remember, a Prince must respect all of his people, not just those born to nobility.’ William looked ashamed, apologised to Arthur, who looked more shocked than anything, staring as if he’d never seen Merlin before. After all, although Merlin had been guiding Arthur when he had been Prince, then King, of Camelot, he had never used such a tone. Nor held a position where he could do such a thing.

‘I’m learning about an Arthur in history, the tales of the Round Table!’ Louisa exclaimed, Gwaine falling still. The Round Table?

‘And who is your favourite, my dear?’ Morgana asked, taking a bite of her fish with a knowing smirk towards the rest of them.

‘Lady Guinevere, of course. She’s so brave, I’d love to be Queen!’ Merlin smiled fondly, and Morgana just chuckled.

Gwaine was just confused.

**

‘So, there are tales of us?’ Arthur asked, when it was just them later on. William had joined them briefly, as apparently this was a men’s reclining room, used after dinner. He’d left shortly after, apologising once more to Arthur for his rudeness at dinner, before Merlin ruffled his hair and told him to get some rest.

‘Not all of them are correct, but yes. Tales of Knights and fair Ladies, of Magicians and Kings.’ Merlin handed Gwaine a drink, one that looked a lot stronger than the ones from Camelot. He took a sip, grimaced at the burn, then took another.

‘And Excalibur?’ Arthur questioned, Merlin falling silent. He walked across to the bookcase in the corner, removed a selection of books and pulled out a long case from behind it, flicked open the casing.

Arthur’s sword, untouched, perfectly preserved in the box.

‘You kept it?’ Arthur’s voice clogged up with something that sounded like emotion, and Merlin shrugged. Looked awkward, shifting from foot to foot, like he hadn't expected to ever be questioned.

‘For a while, it remained in the Lake of Avalon. But I called it back, when I decided to try and get you back myself.’ Arthur reached for it, but halted just before. Snatched his hand away, like it had been burnt, and Merlin looked ashamed.

‘Right. Well.’

‘Another drink?’ Lancelot suggested, to try and break the tension. Arthur quickly agreed, and Merlin closed the box, the sword hidden once more.

The taste of the alcohol was growing on him, Gwaine decided. 

**

‘Give them time, love. They’ll settle.’ Morgana smoothly remarked, as Merlin paced back and forth in their bedchamber. She’d seen him like this, back when he first brought her back, still with a sliver of hope that he could resurrect the dead Knights. It had faded, the light falling from his eyes, and Morgana had thought she’d never see it again.

Now, the old Merlin was peeking through, the one that wanted hand and foot on Arthur. He’d made sure the man was in bed, asked him if he needed anything brought to him, until Arthur had pointed out that he was no longer a King, and Merlin was no longer a servant.

Moodily, Merlin stopped his pacing and looked to her, before slumping.

‘It’s a complete mess.’ He concluded, and Morgana chuckled. She rose from her dressing table, glad that she was out of the ridiculous dress that she’d been wearing for dinner, they were awfully complicated things.

‘Not for long. You’ll take them to the King, and he’ll have them recognised as nobility.’ It would be that simple, George would listen to Merlin as he always did.

‘Do you think something’s coming? A threat to Albion?’ She knew the destiny just as he did, had been considering the same thing.

‘Or a threat to one of the creatures of Albion.’ She added, and Merlin looked thoughtful. Started stripping down, ready for bed, while the fire crackled to life in the corner.

‘We’ll talk to Freya. And have her go and see Aithusa.’ Morgana moved to the bed, pulled back the covers and climbed in, while Merlin dressed into his nightclothes.

‘Indeed we will, my dear husband.’


	8. Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small chapter, where we meet the King of England, and get ready to meet Freya

‘I hate these clothes.’ Gwaine grumbled, while Merlin dressed him. The others were struggling, Morgana laughing in the corner as they tried to sort out the many buttons and the weird fabric. Merlin finally finished, stepped back and then looked to the others. He moved to Arthur next, eyes flashing golden to sort the others out.

‘Cheating.’ Arthur remarked with a pout, Merlin straightening his jacket and looking around. They looked relatively smart, probably wouldn’t annoy the King too much, and then they could make the trip to see Freya. That was the plan anyway, to show them London and the beauty that this country had.

‘Come along, we can’t be late for an audience with the King.’ Morgana swept out of the room, commanding attention from any that looked in her direction. Merlin fell in step with the others, who chatted away and asked questions about the new country, what to expect in Court.

It was a bright day, the carriages waiting to take them, and the men looked slightly annoyed at having to travel in one. Morgana and Merlin were far more used to this, directed four of them to the back, and Arthur and Gwaine to travel with them.

They were like children, peeking out of the curtains to watch what was going on, marvelling at the buildings that they passed.

‘There’s a big difference between the rich and poor.’ Arthur murmured, looking slightly shocked as they passed some of the poorer areas of London. Merlin nodded, and Morgana placed a hand on her brother’s knee. It was a gesture of comfort, and Merlin was surprised when Arthur didn’t flinch at it.

‘As a population grows, the gap gets wider.’ Arthur, as King, would know such a thing. But this was beyond anything he had done, that was clear, and Merlin felt sorry for the once-King. He had a good-heart, would want to help all those who struggled.

‘And why do you not use Magic?’ Morgana winced, and it was Merlin’s turn to reassure his wife.

‘Magic is… not accepted. A couple hundred years ago, they’d burn women at the stake for such a thing. Even without proof.’ Arthur’s mouth dropped open, Gwaine looked like he’d been stabbed.

‘What?’

‘The King is aware, it is a long-kept secret amongst royals, but a previous King attempted to have me burnt for my Magic.’ Morgana admitted, her hands already beginning to shake. Merlin remembered it, running through the Palace and dropping to his knees, begging the King to think about this. Watching as Morgana was taken to the tower, and pleading until James finally listened, told him that she would stand trial like any other Witch.

‘Attempted?’ Arthur’s anger was sparking, and even Gwaine looked ready to defend her.

‘The pyre was built outside my cell.’ Morgana whispered, eyes filling with tears, and Merlin took her hand. Laced their fingers together, let her head fall to his shoulder. He would never have let her burnt, not even if he had to use his Magic to free her.

‘But we survived. We leave the country, every fifty years or so, to let people settle and forget the rumours, and then come back to help the next King or Queen.’ Beside him, his wife was beginning to breathe slightly more evenly, sat back up and pushed aside memories of thinking she was awaiting death. It had hit slightly too close to the threat of Camelot, she hadn't spoken to him for weeks. Lived in a shell, and hid under blankets to keep herself safe.

‘I’m sorry. I just presumed Magic would be accepted, here.’ Arthur was looking at his sister for most of the sentence, but his eyes slipped across to Merlin at the end.

**

King George ordered his men out, had the doors sealed, and then left the throne to peer at them.

‘Are they… Magic?’ He whispered the words, eyeing Arthur curiously, and Merlin bit back a smile. George was actually alright, a little dangerous in his tempers, but otherwise, Merlin got along with him pretty well.

‘Not quite, your Majesty. They’re from a different time, though.’ Arthur evidently had not expected the King to look as he did, had barely hidden the way his eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

‘Arthur. Gwaine. Lancelot. Percival. Elyan. Leon.’ He named each one, just like Merlin had, and George turned back.

‘From the fairy-tales, no? Of Camelot?’ He had a strong German accent, which made it all the more funny, and Merlin bowed his head.

‘Yes, Sire.’ He clapped his hands in excitement, had always been thrilled by Magic, even if he could not quite understand it. Looking back to his wife, who just looked amused by her husband’s excitement, he grinned.

‘Titles will be needed, for all of them.’ Merlin bowed, thankful that George had been so easy to convince.

‘I’ll have them drawn up, sent to you at once.’ The King was walking from the room, probably to fetch his advisors, and the Queen rose from her throne and walked towards him. Morgana dropped to a curtsey, the Knights following suite, but Merlin just smiled at her.

‘How are you, my Queen?’ Caroline had been but a child when he first met her, an orphan that was going to live in Prussia. It had been Merlin that advised her match to George, and she was thankful for it.

‘Most well, thank you. Have you heard from my son?’ The eldest one, a strained relationship between them, just as George had with his father.

‘I have not, my Lady. But I shall attempt to do so, if it is your wish?’ She took his hand, pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘You’ve always been my most trusted, Merlin. I’m in your debt.’ He chuckled, gave her a look that told her she need not thank him for something he did so willingly, and she stepped back.

**

‘Could you not have been King?’ Arthur pointed out, as they travelled into the English countryside. He looked across to his friend, confused, and realised that he meant marriage to one of the potential Queens of England.

‘If I wanted to. Which I don’t.’ He had a wife, and she was hassle enough, he thought fondly. Plus, Morgana looked positively jealous at the thought of him marrying someone else, a pout on her face and eyes burning.

‘Good. I don’t intend to divorce you.’ She snapped, and Merlin rolled his eyes, found Gwaine looking between them.

That was something he hadn't spoken about yet, not to Morgana, he was worried that she would not approve. But then, like Magic, she caught his stare.

‘Of course, I can always share you, should the right person come along.’ Merlin blushed, Morgana cackled, and Gwaine just looked amused by the entire thing. Arthur sighed, pinched his nose in a very un-Arthur gesture.

‘I’m already getting a headache.’


	9. Excalibur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana and Freya friendship, plus Merlin's figuring out the link

Merlin looked to the open lake, then back to the group of confused Knights. He went to their sides, ready to explain, while Morgana looked into the water.

‘We have a friend, back from Camelot’s times, that might be able to help us with why you’ve been brought back.’ Merlin began, before the group looked past him, eyes widening. Merlin had been planning on introducing them to the idea slowly, but when he turned, Freya and Morgana were busy having a conversation, and he sighed.

This wasn’t the first time the duo had gotten together, chatting and making funny eyes at him. Ever since he had brought Morgana back from the dead, he had made no effort to hide anything from her. There was no point, look was hiding things from her had done in Camelot. This way, he could accept her emotions as they were, for the truth of what he has done.

Freya had liked Morgana from the very start, and he often would come back from a day of work to find Morgana and Freya in the garden, usually by the fountain that he always insisted they have, talking away. They could be there for hours, and Merlin would often have to go and fetch Morgana for supper, for she would completely forget the time.

‘Morgana, I was planning on doing this slowly.’ He stated, and his wife raised an eyebrow at him.

‘Slowly? They’ve just been brought back from the dead after a thousand years, that was slow enough.’ She had a point, and Merlin turned his attention to Freya, who smiled.

‘Hi Merlin.’

‘Freya.’ He liked her, he did, but she had always been a reminder of another thing he could not save. He’d tried to untether her from the Lake, which had worked, but he could not continue to untether her from all water. She still had to rely on it, could not live once out of the water.

‘I knew they were alive, but I haven’t got a clue why they were brought back.’ Brilliant, another mystery he had to solve. Morgana seemed to sense his frustration, turning back to the Lady of the Lake.

‘Would Aithusa have any idea?’

‘He might, but I have no idea where he is. I’ll spread the word, see if I can find out why they were brought back now.’ A war? Some sort of political threat? What could it be, that would hurt Albion enough that they needed to be brought back from the dead.

‘That was a waste of time.’ Merlin stated, when Freya was gone and Morgana walked back to hide side.

‘Don’t be pessimistic, Merlin, it doesn’t suit you. We just haven’t found the answer yet.’ She scolded lightly, and he had to admit, she was right.

**

It was late in the evening, when Merlin came to a conclusion that startled him. He sat up in bed, flicked the candles to life with little more than a thought. Morgana grumbled, rolled over and rubbed her eyes, looked up to him in confusion.

‘Merlin?’ He ignored her, for now, stumbled from the sheets and padded across to the bookshelves, started to scan them.

‘You found them in the desert.’

‘Actually I found them at the coast. But they were brought back in the desert, the Broken Hill Temple that used to be a trading post.’ He’d taught her about it, two-hundred years previous, when he spoke of all the people that had been massacred there. They were British, royals that had been meddling in things they could not understand, bad Magic. Merlin had been at the throne at the time, one of the first Kings of England after William I, trying to gain power from a resurrection spell.

To make somebody immortal, the process was almost impossible. So many deaths needed, usually, and Merlin thought about this as he grabbed one of the books. A map, spread it out across the table.

‘The Broken Hill massacre, killing twenty-three members of the royal family after a spell cursed them with something close to necromancy.’ Morgana rose, walked across to join him in just her nightgown.

‘Not dead, nor alive.’ Morgana conceded, struggling to see the point he was trying to make.

‘If they were brought back at the site of all this Dark Magic…’ Finally, it seemed to connect, he watched her eyes light up.

‘Then the energy could do the same to others. What better way to kill a population, than for a plague of undead creatures?’ Not quite shades, but something worse altogether.

‘There are trading ports all along the coast.’ She whispered, and the picture became quite clear. Dark magic, with the ability to spread across most of the civilised world in such a short period of time.

‘Then we have to reach the Temple before anybody else does.’ Merlin pointed out, before Morgana once again looked lost.

‘Why would Arthur be needed, for such a thing?’ He had been wondering the same thing, but as he looked down to the map, then back to Morgana, it clicked.

‘Excalibur.’

**

Arthur was awoken by knocking at the door, found a servant standing outside.

‘His Grace asks for your presence, urgently, milord.’ He nodded, grabbed some clothes and struggled with the laces, before hurrying along the corridor. He ran into Elyan, who had evidently got the same message, and they headed in the direction of Merlin’s room.

Everyone else was already there, Merlin and Morgana at the table, both in nothing more than nightgowns. For a moment, he felt an odd stab of protectiveness wash over him at the fact that Morgana was so exposed, remembered back to when his Father’s Knights had dragged her from bed one evening, in the middle of a threat against Camelot. He had been the one to wrap a cloak around her shoulders, to warm her and protect her from the eyes of the Guards.

But these were his closest friends, and people that he trusted. There was no need for the protectiveness, nor was Morgana the girl she had been.

‘We’ve found out the threat.’ Morgana stated, tapping a map that he had no recognition of.

‘Dark Magic, from the site you were brought back to life at.’ Merlin added.

‘With dangerous connections to the rest of the world,’

‘That could mean a world-wide spread of the nearly-dead, not just a threat to England.’ He wondered if they realised that they finished each other’s thoughts, were so in tune with the other that he could see why they made such a formidable pairing. He knew the others had picked up on it, the way they bounced off each other’s thinking.

‘Why us?’ Elyan asked, and Morgana grinned.

‘What do the Knights of Camelot do better, than fight Magic?’ Merlin was smiling at her, with affection that Arthur had never seen before. Maybe it was these moments, that bonded them.

‘Especially with the only weapon alive that could harm them.’ Excalibur, his sword, and Arthur understood his duty. To save England, even though it was no longer his, and to keep the place safe. Just like he had, in Camelot, with Merlin by his side. And now his sister.

‘How did you figure it out?’ Leon asked, evidently impressed, and Morgana gestured to Merlin.

‘All Merlin, I just provided the questions.’

‘Alright, so when do we leave?’ Arthur asked, and watched Merlin’s face drop at the answer. A grim look of determination, that did not suit his manservant one bit.

‘Tomorrow.’ Morgana finished for him.


	10. Taste of Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back out on the sea, Merlin's at home

‘He looks at home.’ Gwaine remarked, Morgana tilting her head to the man. The ship cruised with ease over the waters, a crew of handpicked men, Caspian leading them. As much as she disliked the man, he was a good sailor, nobody would deny that. He stood at the wheel, while Merlin stood at the bow of the boat, hair ruffling in the breeze.

‘This was his home.’ She may know more about Merlin than the others, but she knew she did not hold a place in his heart like Arthur did, like Gwaine could, if he wanted it. Morgana looked across to her brother, who seemed torn between going to Merlin’s side, or leaving him to watch the open seas in front.

‘I still don’t like you.’ Gwaine glanced to her, and Morgana chuckled, her arm still through his. He looked rather handsome in his current attire, like a proper gentleman, despite the rugged hair and slight stubble. One could almost call him a Georgian Noble, had he not had the wildness to his eyes, and the shirt unbuttoned at the top. The collar was missing as well, she had heard him dismissing the servant that tried to dress him.

‘Like, love, hate, it’s all irrelevant. We have a common purpose.’ Without her heeled shoes, she stood slightly shorter than him, and she had to look up to see him. The headpiece she was wearing may keep her hair from her eyes, but it also obscured good-looking men when they got too close.

‘How do you know he wants me?’ It was rather ridiculous, how did Gwaine not see it? The way Merlin stared, his lips quirking up at the corners whenever the other man spoke. Blue eyes always following him, sadness when Gwaine attempted nothing more than polite talk.

‘He kissed you, did he not?’ It wasn’t like Merlin had never kissed her. On their wedding day, which had happened more than once, he had finished the ceremony with a kiss. One or two other times, but they were always a rarity, and never with the emotion that had been put into his kiss with Gwaine.

‘What if he realises that I’m not anything special, now I’m no longer a Knight?’ That wasn’t the confident, flirtatious man that Camelot had known, that Merlin spoke of after one too many drinks. Morgana wondered if he realised how deeply he had fallen for the Warlock, the way Gwaine was so nervous over how Merlin felt.

‘It isn’t the cape he fell in love with.’ She concluded, letting his arm go and moving towards Caspian.

**

Merlin loved the sea. Always had, it was thrilling, to see how big the world was. There was a rush of adrenaline like no other, the taste of salt heavy in the air. The wind was chilled, brushed over him as he looked out to the horizon, screwed his eyes shut and tilted his head back. Chest full of the cleanest air, nothing like the grime of London.

‘You look like you could live on nothing but the taste of the air.’ He laughed, looked to where Gwaine was standing, head cocked.

‘Do you not adore it? The freedom.’ He clarified, and Gwaine moved slightly closer. He looked afraid of the sea, of the unknown, and Merlin had to remind himself that the Knight hadn't had the chance to adapt, like he had. One day, he’d been in a forest with a battle on his mind, the next, in a world several times bigger than he could have ever imagined.

‘Not as much as you, evidently.’ Gwaine looked amused, and Merlin chuckled, climbed up onto the bowsprit, watched Gwaine’s eyes flash dubiously.

‘That doesn’t look safe.’ He raised an eyebrow at the Knight, who seemed to realise what he had said.

‘Give me a hand.’ Gwaine stated, and Merlin reached for him. There was the Knight he knew, clambering up to settle beside him, staring down to where the keel of the ship split the ocean.

Merlin saw it, the moment that Gwaine realised why he loved this spot. He turned to the open horizon, let go of the wooden beam he was perched on, chuckled slightly.

‘I can see how it gets addicting.’ It was an addiction, one of the best types. Merlin hesitated, but reached out and took Gwaine’s hand in his. Rough, like his own, and he entwined their fingers, let it rest between them.

‘I did miss you, Gwaine. Mourned for you.’ Whispered, almost unheard over the crash of waves. The Knight looked to him, squeezed the hand that tied them.

‘I know. It’s just… a lot. But I’m settling.’ His head shot up, staring at Gwaine, realising if the Knight realised what he just said. Sure enough, he looked slightly surprised, but not regretful.

‘Did you think I was not serious? Merlin, when I kissed you, I had every intention of keeping to my promise.’ He had spent a thousand years wondering if Gwaine had been truthful, or whether the rush of adrenaline was impacting his thoughts. But Merlin never thought he would ever face the Knight again, would never have a chance to redo his time.

‘And you still do?’ He asked, ashamed at how his voice broke half-way, terror at the reply. Gwaine pondered, before shuffling closer, a bright smile taking over his face.

‘I still do. As Morgana said, I’ll share.’ Merlin blushed, ducked his head, then looked across to her. All these years, never allowing himself to wonder what it would be like if he actually let his heart open to her. He knew he loved her, that much was obvious. But…

‘Merlin, she loves you. Anybody can see that. I’m not getting in the way of that, I just ask for a piece.’ He winked, and it was such a Gwaine-thing to do, that Merlin burst out laughing. The Knight grinned, pleased, before pressing a quick kiss to his knuckles, and leaving Merlin on his perch.

By the time that Morgana reached him, he’d already made his decision. Stood up, took another step on the bowsprit, the raging ocean beneath him.

‘You’ve gone quite mad.’ His wife commented, but she held out her hand in expectation, and he helped her clamber up. Glad, she’d chosen to wear flat shoes, and she took another step, wobbling. He could tell the crew would be watching them, they were one small slip from falling into the dark blue, but Merlin couldn’t care less.

‘And if I have?’ Merlin remarked, keeping his eyes on her as he took another step backwards. Green eyes sparkled with amusement, dresses bunched up in one hand, while the other kept hold of him.

‘It suits you. I’ve never seen you so happy.’ Another step, and Merlin could see the figurehead on the ship, the one he usually only saw when she was docked.

‘All thanks to you, Morgana.’ He would never forget that she had been the one to do this, to bring back a part of his life that he thought he’d lost forever. She laughed, took the last step and stumbled, Merlin laughing as he caught her. If there was a little Magic involved, to keep them from both tumbling into the torrents beneath, neither admitted it.

‘I feel like I first did, when I realised the world was at our feet.’ She stated, looking out across the sea. Merlin followed her gaze, steadied an arm around her.

‘Like we could go anywhere.’

‘Do anything.’

‘Be anybody.’ He finished, found the Witch watching him.

‘Just with six men by our side.’ The picture was an amusing one, and he laughed.

‘What a sight we will be.’


	11. Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay.... so, I'm sorry. That's it, all I want to say

‘It’s too hot.’ Morgana grumbled, and Merlin chuckled. He had to admit, she was right. The sun was beating down, and he was glad for the covers over him, otherwise he would be burnt to a crisp. Trying to convince the group that camels were indeed safe to ride had been an interesting challenge, Leon had downright refused, until everyone else showed him that it was quite safe. Gone were the suits that they had worn on the ship, replaced with loose shirts and shorts, skin wrapped in shawls to stop them from burning.

‘We’ll be there soon.’ Merlin stated, even if the heat was beginning to get a little uncomfortable for himself. He had been using his Magic to provide comfort for the creatures carrying them, never one to make an animal work without reward, but he supposed he could work a small spell to help them as well. They noticed immediately, Gwaine groaning and Morgana laughing, the others looking pleased.

‘You’re too soft, Merlin.’ She teased, and he ignored her. Looked back to the desert, then to Arthur, Excalibur hanging by his side. If they were dealing with the undead, then it was the only weapon that could kill it. That, and the Magic that both he and Morgana had. His plan was to get to the centre of the Temple, draw away the dark Magic and hope that it killed any that had already risen.

‘What’s the plan?’ Arthur asked, urging his Camel to walk closer to Merlin’s. The Warlock turned to his King, an amused expression at how he was yet again trying to take lead.

‘You keep any uglies out of the way, me and Merlin find the source.’ Morgana stated, as if reading his mind. Arthur seemed to wait, to see if Merlin would argue with her, but when he didn’t, he looked to his sister.

‘Uglies?’ He asked, a smirk forming on his lips. It was, in a weird way, similar to that of Morgana’s. It must be a Pendragon thing, Merlin decided, looking back to the sea of sand.

‘They’ve been dead for an awfully long time, I wouldn’t call them pretty.’ She teased, almost as she would have done back in Camelot. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so difficult, for them to get used to each other again, to settle down into the life they wanted.

‘So have I.’ Arthur pointed out, and Morgana eyed him up and down.

‘Exactly.’

**

It was, at least, cooler in the Temple. It was half-hidden by sand, and Merlin used Magic to help them get into it. Now, they looked around the gloomy space, Merlin feeling less than safe here. His Magic toiled, told him that there was definitely something bad lurking in the darkness.

‘This is incredible.’ Leon murmured, while Morgana drew closer to Merlin’s side. Her had crept out, taking his, and he felt her fear.

‘It feels awful, Merlin. I can hear them…’ She halted, eyes wide, and Merlin should have predicted this. As a High Priestess, she’d have much more connection to the tortured souls, would ache for their pain.

‘Stay with them.’ He squeezed her hand once, then dropped it, knowing they would try and keep her safe.

‘Merlin! You can’t go alone!’ Morgana protested, but her skin had gone pale, terror at those that were dead.

‘He isn’t.’ Gwaine stated, and the Warlock knew better than to argue.

**

It was like a beacon, calling him in. Luckily, the creatures that had begun to rise, mostly skeletal in form, weren’t that interested in him. They looked at Gwaine quite a bit, possibly trying to decide whether or not he would be tasty, but the Knight kept close enough that Merlin could deflect the interest.

‘They’re not like us.’ Gwaine whispered, when they passed what Merlin presumed had been a woman, dressed in finery that hung from her form, with glassy eyes and a jaw that was unable to close.

‘No, your much better looking.’ Merlin agreed, and Gwaine snorted with laughter. That gained a few stares, Merlin tugging him closer, definitely not in the mood to have to fight the undead.

‘Woah.’ They both halted, looking to what Merlin could only call an altar, with a cracked bowl on the top. It was here, he suspected, that the water of the Lake of Avalon had been brought, the thing strong enough to bring back the Knights of Camelot. Useful, but also terrifying, because if he summoned the dark Magic and tried to destroy it, would it undo the work that brought back the Knights?

No, they were gifts of the Old Religion. Of that, Merlin was sure.

‘As soon as I get close to the altar, they’ll attack.’ Merlin whispered, dragging Gwaine behind him, and attempting to put a barrier up. Sure enough, as soon as his foot touched the first step, the lady with the open mouth turned, and ran. Gwaine winced as she hit the barrier, stumbled back, and then tried again.

‘Hurry, Merlin.’

**

Arthur sliced through yet another limb, sure that it should be attached to something, and looked to Morgana. She was doing a good job of holding her own, fighting alongside the Knights like she belonged there, and Arthur felt a pang of remorse. This was his chance, to better his relationship with her, to start afresh.

‘Watch out!’ Fire burnt the limb that had almost reached him, nails that looked rotten and hair far too stringy to be real. He swallowed, focused on the task, and hoped that Merlin was hurrying up.

Then, like the strings had been cut to a puppet, every creature fell. Crumbled to dust, and Arthur laughed, the group cheering. Even Morgana looked pleased, although her expression dropped, eyes widening.

‘Arthur?’ He felt like the ground beneath him was falling apart, his sword dropping to the ground as he reached for her. The others looked just as unsteady, wobbling like they couldn’t quite stand up, like they were being dropped.

His lips wouldn’t move, as he sunk down to his knees, Morgana stumbling and reaching for him, clutching like she would protect him.

‘W’s Merlin?’ He tried to focus on the words, to ask the question that might solve all of this, but it was too late. His head grew blurry, and he slumped down, reaching for his sister’s hand.

**

Merlin wasn’t sure what was happening. Just that he had done something, had taken the dark Magic and wished for something that he shouldn’t have done. The Temple slipped from beneath his grasp, he lost sight of Gwaine, and all he could do was hope.

With the world spinning, Merlin closed his eyes and tried to focus, reached back out for the water of the Lake.

Only he took a step forwards, tripped, and landed in something wet.

When he reopened his eyes, he was no longer standing in the Temple in the middle of the desert. Beneath his feet, water, cold and fresh. The sky a bright blue, trees lining the water he was standing in, and Merlin felt like the world had dropped out beneath him.

Because he’d recognise where he was standing, even if he hadn't have opened his eyes. The smell, the feel, his Magic soared like it was home.

He’d never been more terrified to see the Lake of Avalon. He halted, looked back over his shoulder, only to see the others. Arthur, Gwaine, the other Knights. And, on the floor in the dress that she’d been wearing when he killed her,

‘Morgana.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And once more, sorry????


	12. Lake of Avalon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't going well for Morgana

No. No, she couldn’t be here. Anywhere but back here, in the land that she had made a fatal mistake. But it was unmistakeable, the smell, the Lake of Avalon stretched out in front of them. The dress, and the tangled hair, and the Magic rolling around her. She was back in Camelot, back in the very place she’d tried to take over, and Morgana could do nothing but burst into tears.

Her Magic broke free of her hold, beginning to shove the others back, she couldn’t be stuck here! She’d just sorted out her life, had managed to find a place by Merlin’s side, had been an important person that could command the ear of the Queen and King. Now, she was sobbing on the side of the Lake, knowing that it was mere moments since her death.

Hands grabbed at her, pulled her into Merlin’s lap, Magic closing over her to try and comfort. But there was no comfort for being thrown into the nightmares that she tried to escape, to forget the fear of the pyre and all the terrible mistakes that she’d made. Morgause, oh Goddess, her sister that had died for her.

She vaguely noted that the six men were back in their armour, swords by their sides, fully able to kill her. This was a time where she was no longer in control, wasn’t the one that could command them to her will. This was where they were trying to kill her, and she deserved it. Her Magic ached, screamed and tore at her skin as she tried to fight out of his grip. Merlin, she’d just killed his closest friend, could still smell the ash on the lake of the burning boat.

‘Morgana!’ Merlin shouted, and she looked up, before lips hit hers. Soft, warm, pleading for her to understand he was here, that he wasn’t leaving her. She cried, clutched at his ratty jacket and pulled him closer to her, kissing back just as fiercely.

‘You’re okay. We’re okay. Safe.’ The kiss broke, and she kept hold of him, petrified.

‘Sire?’ Merlin was looking to Arthur, falling back so easily into the role as servant. He was standing up, helping Morgana rise and keeping his body in between the two of them. Protecting her from Arthur, in case he decided to run her through with Excalibur.

‘Merlin… we’re… back.’

‘Clearly still have some of your sense.’ Merlin joked, even if he was tense.

‘The battles just finished. Camelot’s successful, and we… we would have gone to proclaim Guinevere Queen of Camelot.’ Percival stated, looking to Leon. Arthur was still staring at Merlin, then looking past to Morgana.

‘We must go back to Camelot. To… to our home.’ The Knights looked just as ready to go back, but Arthur didn’t move.

‘Morgana…’ He began, and Merlin cut in.

‘An awful spell, Sire. Terrible. The strength that it must have taken, for the Lady Morgana to be possessed in such a way.’ It seemed time had halted, while the servant stared to his Master, and the two conversed without speech. Finally, Arthur nodded.

‘Absolutely dreadful. Possession, my poor sister.’ He agreed, and Merlin relaxed, took Morgana’s hand into his and held her steady as she understood what he was saying.

She had a second chance.

**

The people of Camelot were curious to see Morgana, Arthur knew that. Anyone that would listen, he told the tale of how his sister had been possessed by an evil creature of Magic, and that they had broken the curse. That her Magic was good, she’d been using it to try and break free, which was why she’d allowed Queen Guinevere to survive meeting her. Morgana played the part well, although Arthur knew she wasn’t acting. Her tears were real, her fear of being burnt at the Pyre genuine, and Merlin refused to leave her side.

Guinevere stared at them in shock, from Elyan and Lancelot, who should rightfully be dead, to Morgana, clutching at Merlin like if she let go, she would break.

The council were called immediately, Arthur explaining that he had been wrong, that Magic could be used for good. That a Warlock had fought on their side, and had brought back Elyan and Lancelot as a show of good Magic. The councillors clapped and cheered, although were slightly less happy when Arthur proclaimed his sister would stay by his side in Camelot.

As soon as they were gone, Gwen jumped onto Elyan, the two crying and hugging, while Gaius stared at Arthur from the side of the room. Gwen’s sobbing turned to Lancelot, and Arthur felt a slight stab of jealousy, before he looked at Lancelot and saw how his eyes had turned misty. Maybe, like Gwaine and Morgana had agreed to share Merlin, he and Lancelot could share Guinevere? If she agreed, of course, he’d never make her do anything. If, now that Lancelot had returned, she wanted to only share his bed…

‘Morgana.’ Gwen halted, and Morgana looked across to Guinevere, the Queen looking unsure.

‘Guinevere, I… I know you won’t be able to forgive me…’

‘What happened to you? All of you, you aren’t quite the same as you were.’ Arthur looked across to Merlin, who had gone back to holding Morgana.

‘We… we went to the future. Magic, it was a spell, and we got to know each other. Put aside our fights,’ He glanced to Morgana, ‘And then were brought back.’ Gwen sat down quickly, eyes wide but shining with happiness.

‘The future?’ Arthur halted, turned to Merlin.

‘It was an odd trip, my Lady, proof that we could all get along, to settle our differences without death.’ Arthur reached for Morgana, who hesitantly took his hand as he pulled her close. The second Merlin was free, Gwen was hugging him.

‘I know it was you, Merlin. I… Thank you! Thank you.’ Arthur said nothing about the tears in the Warlock’s eyes, nor the look that was shared between him and Gaius.

‘Sir Gwaine, would you escort Lady Morgana to her Chambers?’ He nodded immediately, and Morgana sent one last look at Merlin, before leaving the room. Gwen was already chatting to Elyan, refusing to let go of his hand, and Arthur cleared his throat.

‘Lancelot, a word?’

That should give Merlin time to speak to Gaius, and tell Arthur if this was really happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, er, I always figured this would be a bit of a risk in the story, is it working?


	13. Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana's in shock, Merlin's hiding his feelings, and Arthur's ended up in a new relationship

Gwaine couldn’t leave her. To begin with, he had fully intended on doing so. Morgana’s Chambers had not been touched since she left, tried to attack and take the throne of Camelot, killed them all. Now, they were back in Albion, and the poor woman looked… lost. Hopeless, wide eyes with tear tracks down her face, and her hands shaking. Not the manic-sorcerer that killed him, a scared woman that had no idea what was going on.

Then she’d asked him to stay. In a weak, shaking voice that broke open his heart, even though he barely knew her. He had held her close, then asked one of the servants if they could fetch a bath for her. They came in hesitantly, tried to hide themselves from Morgana’s view, and Gwaine couldn’t blame them. She looked like the person that had tried to take the throne, not the Morgana that they knew.

‘Morgana, can I get someone to help you out of this dress?’ She looked up, like she hadn't understood the words, and he looked to the water. She was muddy, hair a mess, and he really wished that the servants hadn't run out of the room.

‘Just you.’ She stated, the firmest thing she’d said since landing on the side of the Lake. Gwaine froze, but realised she was quite serious, and so hesitantly moved her so he could reach the ties of the dress.

It was a complete wreck, and in the end he drew a knife that he kept in his boot, found her eyes focused on it.

‘Get it over with.’ She begged, tilted her head up to him, and he ignored the fact that this was the woman that had killed him. Because, deep down, he knew it wasn’t. This Morgana wasn’t the one that had tortured him.

The knife cut through the wrecked fabric, until he could peel it from her skin. She was awfully thin underneath, wearing no shift or underskirts, just smallclothes that he helped her step from. Evidently, although they had memories of the future, they were in their bodies from Camelot. He wondered about the scars littering her, the fact he could count her ribs, the way the skin clung to her like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

He decided to just lift her, then carefully lower her into the water. She shuddered, it probably wasn’t very warm, and her eyes flashed golden for the briefest of moments. There was no fear in him, he just found it intriguing, watched as the water began to steam. He helped her shuffle forwards, noted that one of the servants had brought a brush and some different oils that he presumed were to help wash her hair.

‘Can… can you help me?’ She whispered, looked back to him, and he reached for the cup. Filled it with water, brought it up and slowly worked water into the mess of tangled and frayed hair.

It took time. Morgana emptied the bath twice, refilling it with her Magic, while Gwaine worked on unravelling the mess on top of her head. She held perfectly still, didn’t complain at any of the tugging. Once it was plastered to her shoulders, straight, he sat back with a sense of pride. It almost looked like it had in the future, shiny and healthy.

‘They tortured me.’ He’d suspected something had happened, reached to trace one of the marks on her shoulder.

‘Nobody will touch you anymore, you have my word.’ Morgana looked to him, looked so young, and he wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was leaning in and kissing her. Just the briefest of pecks, and her eyes widened.

‘I’m sorry, so sorry, for what…’ He knew where that was going, kissed her just once more to silence her apologies.

‘Don’t apologise, Morgana. That was a different you.’ She nodded slowly, then went back to staring, still evidently in shock. He rose her hand from the water, began to work the dirt from under her nails.

The door opened, and Gwaine turned to see Merlin. That was a walking disaster waiting to happen, the Warlock was burying all his emotions, even Gwaine could see that.

‘Hey, is she okay?’ Gwaine rocked back, stood up and watched Morgana’s hand fall back into the water. He had tried his best, but it was clear that the only person who could comfort her now was Merlin, her head tipping back and searching for him.

He was by her side in an instant, eyes glowing golden and hers matched, like they were communicating with Magic. Then, Merlin looked back to Gwaine.

‘Some spell, huh? Back in Camelot.’ He was trying to sound happy, Gwaine realised with a stab to the chest.

‘Let’s get her out, then you need a bath.’ Merlin didn’t argue, the two of them helping Morgana out, a spell to dry her, while Gwaine went through her wardrobes and fetched a nightgown. She lifted her arms, let them dress her, then Gwaine did the laces while Merlin went to the bath.

Gwaine wasn’t sure what he was doing, just that he was guiding Morgana back to the bed, letting her settle on his lap and curl up around him. He was glad he’d stripped off his armour and had a quick wash before the council meeting, otherwise he’d be covered in dirt. Instead, he was free to hold the woman, who shuddered as he rested a hand on her back.

Merlin was in the water, scrubbing at his skin so harshly that Gwaine was tempted to tell him to calm down. He didn’t, watched the skin turn red, Merlin getting out and dressing himself with Magic. Of course, he had a thousand years to learn to control his Magic, he was a lot stronger than the Warlock that had been in Camelot.

‘What did Gaius say?’ It was a risk, to ask such a question, but Merlin just looked weary.

‘He was shocked. Said that it must have been destiny’s plan, to bring us back. Maybe we couldn’t complete everything without all of us alive.’ Gwaine hated the way his shoulders sank, the way the smile seemed fake. He beckoned for the man to come closer, Merlin crawling up and settling on his other side, one hand on his chest, and the other reaching for Morgana.

‘Are you happy?’ Merlin asked him, looking up with those expressive eyes.

‘I’m happy, wherever you are. Wherever Morgana is, and the rest of us.’ Merlin paused, then nodded.

‘It isn’t the worst thing that could have happened. It’s nice, to have Gwen and Gaius.’ There was something else, and Gwaine waited, the Warlock looking away.

‘I just didn’t want to have to watch them die again.’

And what was Gwaine supposed to say to that?

**

‘Lancelot, I’m aware of your feelings for Guinevere…’ The Knight looked ready to protest, looking across to Gwen, who had followed them for this conversation. The Queen looked shocked, eyes wide and confused, but Arthur held up a hand.

‘Please, it’s okay. Conventional relationships seem pretty overrated. And recently, I’ve seen that there are other methods.’ Lancelot took a moment, then understood what Arthur was hinting at. He looked to Gwen, then back to Arthur.

‘I’d be honoured, if you’re alright with it?’ Gwen just looked lost, and Arthur turned to his wife, surprised to find that this situation was the one he wanted.

‘Gwen, I have no intention of making you do anything. I merely offer a solution. Should you want to share Lancelot’s bed, then I have no issue with it. If you want both of us, then I do not mind that either.’ The Queen had fallen quite still, looking between them.

‘Is this… a future thing?’ She choked out the words, and Arthur could tell that Lancelot was itching to go to her.

‘If it can work for Merlin, then it can work for us. Guinevere, if you’d have me, I’d be honoured to share your bed.’ Lancelot, ever the charmer, and Gwen looked between them.

‘What… what if I want you both in the same bed?’ Arthur was the one to be shocked now, looked to his wife, who looked firm. Like she’d made her mind up on the matter, knew exactly what she wanted and when she wanted it. He supposed that was part of what made her such a good Queen.

Arthur looked to Lancelot, who was staring right back. He was a good Knight, an even better advisor, one of the people that Arthur respected the most. Plus, Merlin was fond of him, which was only ever a good thing. Would it be so bad, to share his rather large bed with two other people? And did the Knight even want such a thing?

‘I’d have no objections.’ Arthur admitted, saw the shock on his Knight’s face, quickly replaced with a smile.

‘Me neither.’ Well then. That seemed to be that issue sorted, and Arthur could focus back on the main problem.

What to do with Morgana and Merlin.


	14. Settle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supposed to be the last Chap, I might come back and explore an epilogue later, if anyone would want that

Merlin never thought he’d be scared of Camelot. But seeing everyone back at the Round Table, watching Morgana take her seat carefully, like she did not deserve the place, it made his heartrate pick up. Arthur looked like the King he should have been, with Gwen at one side, Morgana at the other. His five Knights, and Gaius, seated around the table. It broke his heart, this was the thing he’d wanted more than anything, so why did it feel so awful?

He didn’t stay. He left the room, left the people that he thought he’d be happy for, but instead he just felt miserable. To the stables, stealing one of the horses and riding out of Camelot, in the direction of the Lake of Avalon.

He dismounted, tied the reins to a tree and walked to the edge of the water, let his Magic relax for the first moment since they’d got back to this place.

‘Freya.’ She appeared with very little convincing, stood in the lake with a small smile on her face.

‘Did you know?’ How could she have done this? Knew that he was supposed to come back to Camelot, when he had tried so hard to settle in a new place.

‘Your destiny wasn’t complete, Emrys.’ She turned her back to him, the first time in over a thousand years, and Merlin watched her walk back into the Lake. He knew, somehow, that this was the last time Freya would ever come to him. That this was the moment where she went into the Lake, and did not return.

‘But what do I do now?’ He called, receiving nothing but the ripple of the lake in reply.

**

Gaius was watching her, judging perhaps, and Morgana held her tongue. Arthur was outlining the plans for legalising Magic, for explaining to the people that Morgana was to stand by Arthur’s side, where she deserved. She didn’t miss the way Gwen eyed her warily, nor did she say anything. Mostly because she was missing Merlin, who had ran the moment she had taken his place at the Round Table. It wasn’t a permanent thing, another chair would be brought.

 _‘Merlin, come back. I… I need you.’_ She never thought this would happen, that she would have a chance to be back in Camelot. Arthur finished his speech, looked across to her with concern in his eyes.

‘Are you alright?’ Was she? Did she deserve to be here, when all she had done was hurt him? This wasn’t the ship, the bright seas and the Court that she was used to.

‘I’m just unused to this. I’m almost four-hundred years old, yet I feel like I’m back to being barely an adult.’ The revelation of her age had both Gwen and Gaius staring at her like she was mad, whereas Arthur reached across to take her hand.

‘This is where you belong. With us.’ He seemed so sure of it, and Morgana was tempted to argue, before she caught sight of the windows. Raining, when it had been a sunny day when she woke. Gwaine followed her gaze, a frown forming.

‘Is that because of Merlin?’ Now the others were staring, and Morgana had to reach out with her Magic to see. Gwen winced when her eyes flashed golden, but Morgana paid her no mind, concentrating.

‘Yes, that’s Merlin’s Magic. He’s back in the Castle, though.’ And coming in her direction, like she’d requested. Arthur nodded, turning to Gaius, probably to say something about the fact that Merlin had a reputation for altering the weather now. He didn’t get the chance, the doors opened and the Warlock reappeared, slightly soggier than he should have been.

‘You’re soaked.’ She commented, felt her old sass coming back as Merlin rolled his eyes.

‘It’s raining.’ He pointed out, crossed the room to her and Morgana tilted her head up for a kiss. He didn’t hesitate, lips brushing over hers and Magic closing around her, making her feel… safe. This was the one thing she couldn’t lose, the new affection between them.

‘Because of your moods.’ She teased, watched his eyes flick between golden and blue.

‘I’m stealing some of your horses.’ Merlin stated, looking across to Arthur, who stared at him.

‘Why?’

‘I need to find Aithusa and Kilgharrah, make sure they’re alright. And I’m taking Morgana. Gwaine too, if he wants to come.’ The Knight looked more than pleased to be involved, jumped up to her side, whilst Merlin stepped away.

Morgana remembered last night, when Gwaine had held her and kept her close, like he would have done for Merlin. Perhaps there was a chance that they could become more than just Merlin’s partners, she thought, looking up to him. Strangely, she found herself wanting his affection just as much as Merlin’s, and Gwaine seemed to be able to read that on her expression. A hand settled around her waist, and she leant back into his touch.

**

Aithusa looked just as Morgana remembered from the battle, curled up close to the Dragon and praised it, rewarded it. Merlin was talking to Kilgharrah, the Dragon that was long-dead when she had been resurrected.

‘Are you happy here?’ Gwaine asked, from where Aithusa was curiously sniffing him. She looked across to the Knight, tried to explain the mash of emotions she was feeling, but instead opted for a simple nod.

‘I will be, once Merlin’s happy.’ He looked across to the Warlock, and she watched the way his expression softened.

‘I’ll work to make that happen. For both of you.’ Gwaine stated, took her hand in his, and Aithusa growled at the fact he was being rejected. That made her chuckle, and she wrapped an arm around the Dragon, squeezing Gwaine’s hand.

‘What a team we’ll make.’

**

Merlin watched as Morgana crafted yet another beautiful toy, the child grinning and running away with it to show her family. Arthur was seated in the Royal box, where technically Morgana should be with him, but she was trying to show that Magic could be used for good.

Gwaine was with her, by her side as he usually was, or Merlin’s.

‘I don’t know what you did, my boy,’ Gaius remarked, a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and a smile that Merlin had missed so much. This was what he’d wanted, to be in Camelot, to be with the people he loved so much.

‘But she looks happy. The whole of Camelot is happy.’ He turned to his mentor, knew he was smiling before he could stop it.

Merlin may have said that he wasn’t happy to be back in Camelot, but that was before he’d settled back into a routine. Waking Arthur in the morning by throwing a pillow at him, laughing when Lancelot pulled the blankets up over his head and refused to let him drag him from bed. Gwen, who laughed and scolded all three of them for their idiocy.

Morgana, whose bed he woke in every morning, with Gwaine usually with them, if he wasn’t on patrol.

Magic, legal in the place that he loved, the home he wanted to stay in.

‘Well, what can I say. I take destiny seriously.’ He joked, and Gaius shot him a fond smile. Across the way, the Queen was watching Morgana as she moved back towards the box, and even she looked to be forgiving Morgana.

It couldn’t have been better, Merlin mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments! I love hearing from you guys :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do y'all think? Interesting or nah?


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